


Cyclical, Equilateral, Stellar

by SandriaC (SandrC)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Reincarnation, Transcendence AU, in which R!Bill is a fuckin weirdo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4392449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandriaC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The constellation trades places with the shape and vice versa. Neither remembers, neither forgets. When they are brought together the cycle moves. Lock and key, star and shape, ball and chain, never changing. Ever changing. The demons are safe, sealed, lock and chain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Feeling of Knowing

The first time Dipper saw the kid was when he was stalking the leader of one of the offshoots of the Cult of Alcor. This particular bastard was fond of sacrifices, and not the kind that are par for the other shoots of Alcor’s cult; no, he liked to kill humans. Those he considered ‘unworthy’ were sacrificed for the greater good. That meant anyone who disagreed with him, anyone who spoke out of turn, anyone who thought about branching off, defectors, liars. The man was a tyrant, but he was a tyrant with an immense following and that was something Dipper remembered from his pre-Alcor days in Gravity Falls. The man was even named Gideon. This was retribution that Dipper would enjoy.

(Not that he would kill the man-–far from it. He would give him nightmares that would haunt him, perhaps even daytime hallucinations or the 'gift’ of empathy, but he still would not kill anyone unless need demanded it. Perhaps if Gideon continued to sacrifice innocents-–a term used loosely in Dipper’s opinion, but still true even to cultists like them-–Alcor might eat his soul and prevent it from entering the cycle of rebirth for a few hundred years. That ought to teach him humility.)

He floated just behind Gideon, hovering over his shoulder and picking up on his private thoughts through the constant stream of unbridled energy that all beings gave off. Worry-–about the nightly sacrifice-–confusion-–Alcor looked displeased last time…why?-–fury-–that damnable woman double-crossing him by sleeping with the Consul!!!–-and smug contentment–-he’d show her…she’d be next in line. Dipper tasted the waves of orange and purple humming off of him and winced at the bitter undertone of brown and green. Corruption and greed…not quite Alcor’s favorite type of soul but…push come to shove he would make due and be sure to pop by Cassie’s later for a pint. Maybe even hover over the latest in the Pines family tree-–little Ursa, named so because of a vaguely bear-shaped birthmark on her shoulder. Her true name was far more elegant but, after so many generations, the Pines bloodline was thin enough that only manifesting would allow her to see him. Still…she was a descendant of Willow and had the same mischevious shine in her energy as her great, great, great, grandma did.

As he rounded the corner of 5th and Main, hovering high enough to have a nice overhead view of the cult leader, he noticed someone shadowing him. It was a chubby young kid–he couldn’t be any older than Dipper when he first went to Gravity Falls–with a shock of white-blonde hair that contrasted heavily with his dark skin. His gaze was fixated on Dipper, always on Dipper, and followed him even when he drifted and spun in the air to check his reactions.

 _Second sight?_ Dipper mused, glancing over his shoulder at the receding form of Gideon-the-Alcor-cult-leader (he really needed to make the distinction so he wouldn’t fall prey to ancient grudges against the Gleeful line). Ah well…he could always track him in his dreams and lay down judgement then. _Maybe a good 'you’re not even worthy as a sacrifice’ nightmare would set him straight._ With a bubble of naughty laughter escaping his lips, he flew forward and stopped right in front of the kid, third eye visible and fire trickling from the jet-black sclera. “Staring is rude, yanno?”

The kid flinched, stumbling backwards until he hit a light-pole and fell to the sidewalk. Dipper cackled, fully into the 'dream demon Alcor the Terrible’ persona-–and partially enjoying having someone to spook who didn’t summon him. “What'sa matter kid? See a ghost?” He hovered upside down and pulled a grin far too wide for a human face with more sharp teeth than a shark.

“Perhaps,” the boy’s energy bubbled with magenta sparks and reddish hues. “Are you a ghost?”

“Does a ghost usually have pyrokinesis kid?” One of the things that Dipper liked most about what he was, was that people usually didn’t expect such a reedy tenor to come out of an all-powerful demon’s mouth. (Sometimes he entertained the idea that this is exactly what his voice would have turned out as had he lived through puberty.) 

“Not normally, no,” the kid admitted, ears tinging with color. Magenta sparks intensified but a soft orange began to push out the red. Dipper was struck with an immense wave of…something. He couldn’t identify it as any one emotion, but more of a mix of nostalgia and apprehension with a dash of the feeling of knowing this kid personally.

“Alright then.” Dipper floated above the kid as he got up and dusted himself off. Upon closer inspection, the boy–maybe? his energy didn’t give off any one particular gender feel–was twelve, born in Portland and moved to Atlanta because of his foster-parents’ jobs, never knew his birth parents, and was excited to see him? A frown tugged his mouth downward and his third eye closed, disappearing into his forehead.

“You…you’re a demon?”

“Give the kid a prize!” Dipper crowed, conjuring confetti from the ether, “Here: have a lolly that blinks!” He brandished an over-sized disk of hard candy with a bulbous eye in the center at the kid, who’s energy bubbled purple and puce for a moment before settling back to the orange and white from before.

“I know you!” He stammered, pointing a finger at Dipper excitedly, which caused the passers-by to stare at him oddly. “You…you’re Alcor!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t go shouting that all over the place! Ya gotta be subtle, yanno?” Dipper slapped some ethereal duct tape over the kid’s mouth and shook a finger in warning. “Now, kid, what you got is special. don’t squander it, but also don’t go summoning any demons either. They would literally kill for your soul. I, on the other hand, am far more refined. Keep out of trouble and maybe I’ll see you in your dreams!” With a flash he tesseracted to the far reaches of the ethereal realm and mused over the kid and his oddness. Best to put him out of his mind; the odds of seeing him again are infinitesimal.

* * *

 

The next time Dipper saw the kid, he was summoned. Thankfully it was the gentle tug of one of Cassie’s cult-mates and not the harsher ripping feeling of the more dubious summons. So when he slipped through the ether to tesseract into the summoning circle, he was surprised to see the kid from earlier, a pint of Häagen-Dazs coffee ice-cream clutched in one fist, a sheet of paper in the other. He was grinning widely, revealing dimples so cute that Dipper was reminded of his dear late sister. “It worked!”

Dipper didn’t even bother with the whole 'why have you summoned me?’ spiel, just leaned as far forward as the circle would allow him and snarled, “What are you doing?!” A tinge of yellow sparked in the kid’s energy but it remained mostly pale orange.

“Good! I am glad! So very glad! Hahaha!” The kid cackled and again Dipper was hit with the odd mix of emotions. When he was done chortling, he leaned in, not so far as to interrupt the protection of the circle, but close enough to hand him the pint. “I want answers.”

Straight to the point. No name-throwing or ass-kissing, just 'gimme what I want demon’. Dipper was uneasy at how clever this kid really was. “For a pint? What do you take me for? I require a far greater sacrifice than paltry frozen goods!” He tried to exude an air of importance and demonic-villainy–key-word 'tried’.

“According to this site I found online, that’s all I need. I even used their summoning circle!” Upon observation, it was one of Cassie’s circles, comfortable and roomy; a later model, if Dipper was reading the runes right. (She was a world-famous engineer nowadays and she liked to tease her kids with stories of her demon math tutor that Dipper would listen to on occasion.) The kid was smug…too smug. Dipper felt like poking at the loophole that Cassie left in it for him and getting this smug little shit to piss himself.

“Oh really? And you believe everything you read on the internet?” Dipper drawled, putting on a self-important frown. “You should know better. The millennials knew better.”

“Answers.” The kid demanded, offering the pint again. A jab at a long-gone generation didn’t seem to phase him.

“About?”

“Everything! The pure pointlessness of the eternal rat race we’re in; if an afterlife exists or whether or not we just return to the chaotic void when we pass on. I want to know it all!” He laughed again, a high cackle that set Dipper’s teeth on edge.

A thirst for knowledge ends in disaster; he had seen that first-hand many times. Plus a kid that eager for all the secrets of the universe was upo to no good. “Twenty-questions, twenty answers. That’s what a pint’ll get ya.” Dipper offered. He was going to make this kid’s afternoon a nightmare.

“I could keep you here forever. You can’t go without forming a pact or being dismissed.” _Oh really?_  “So I want more than that.”

 _Brat_. “Twenty questions, twenty answers.” Dipper repeated slowly, metering his words so that he was being very clear.

The kid thought it over, brimming with red and orange and a hint of light yellow, then nodded. “Fine; here.” He carefully maneuvered the ice-cream into the circle without breaking the lines. Dipper had to hand it to him, he was smart.

“Ask away. I’ll keep count.” Dipper summoned a spoon and began to shovel coffee ice-cream into his mouth. ( _Oh_  the feeling of sugar and caffine and milk and ice!  _Bliss_!!!!)

“Um…,” here the kid faltered, fumbling in the oversized pockets of his floor-length skirt for something. When he found it, it turned out to be another piece of paper. Someone was prepared… “Um…is there something after we die?”

“Why wouldn’t there be?”  _One_.

“Because the soul is a religious construct intended to sell their theism to fools with no purpose. I want a better answer!” He huffed.

“Is that a question?”

“Would it count as one?”

 _Bingo_. The kid’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake. “Yes it would."  _Two_.

Magenta and red dripped from his energy as the kid facepalmed. Nice to see that he’s still pretty gullible… "No I meant–can I take that back?”

“No you can’t.”  _Three_.

Dipper really looked at the kid as he glared daggers at him. He took in more of his physical appearance than his energy this time. The kid was masculine in appearance–-though he liked skirts apparently-–and chubby with a fop of white-blonde mini-dreds. His eyes were piercing and different colors; one gave off no energy and was more of a champagne color while the other felt organic in nature and was a reddish-brown.  _Odd…this might explain his Sight._

Finally composed, the kid continued, directly off the page. “Are demons from here?”

“What do you mean?”  _Four_.

“In the sense that they are terrestrials.” It wasn’t a question, which disappointed Dipper a bit but he got over it.

“Not in the slightest.” _Thought I could milk one more out of him…_

“Okay…um…what kind of powers do you have?”

“The demonic kind of course.”  _Five_.

“I mean, how would you classify them?!” The kid knew this was another ploy to get him to waste questions but apparently he really wanted to know.

“Aura reading, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, divination, omniscience, dream-manipulation.” _Six_.

“Omniscience?” As soon as the question left his lips the kid darkened and simmered red and black.

“Alcor the all-knowing dream demon at your service,” Dipper swept his hat off, tilting the room in accordance and then righting it. That was a gesture he always found classy, even before his demonic existence.  _Seven_.

“Do demons eat souls?”

“Some.” The frustration on his face was worth the price of admission.  _Eight_.

“Do you have a physical body? What are demons made of?” Two in one. Dipper was sure he hadn’t realized that that was a loophole he could exploit.

“Demons are ethereal beings. We can manifest a corporeal form when summoned or if we are powerful enough. I don’t have a technical physical body.”  _Ten_.

“Where do you go when you aren’t summoned?” Hoo boy he was losing himself to the lust for answers. Now Dipper could easily manipulate him.

“Wherever I want.”  _Eleven_.’

“Which is?”

“Mostly the Dreamscape.”  _Twelve_.

“What’s that?”

“The realm of dreams.”  _Thirteen_.

“Explain,” he pressed. Not a question technically but with a bit of fudging he could make it count.

“The realm of the unseen that exists only the dreams of humanity. It’s a rather nice place. Quiet.”  _Fourteen_.

The kid stopped to (mis)count the questions already asked and referenced his sheet again. Dipper took in his energy this time, listening to the subtle hums and twitches of the kid’s life story. Unlike most other humans, his energy seemed…unstable. As if his physical form couldn’t contain all of it. He left traces of himself all over everything he touched, even in a bare-bones bedroom like this one. Small specs of bubbling white and purple and orange dotted every surface. The bed was covered in it to the point where it shined like peacock ore from all the residual memories and emotions experienced in it. A name came, unbidden, in his mind through the energy on the bed.  _William_.

“Yanno, I don’t have all day. I do have places to be, William, so if you could hurry up?” Dipper drawled, stuffing another spoonful of ice-cream in his mouth to hide his smirk.

Yellow sparked across his energy as William straightened up and stared at Dipper.

“ _What_? You think I wouldn’t know your name? I  _am_  omniscient, after all.” Dipper reclined and sucked on the spoon. “You wound me…”

“How–?” he began, cutting off the thought but not quick enough for it to be a question. Dipper’s grin widened.

“Om-ni-science,” he accented the word carefully, brandishing the spoon.  _Fifteen_.

“B–that’s not important,” William stammered, looking down at the paper. Dipper picked up a thought floating in a bubble of yellow– _how did he know? i’m wasting questions i need to think calm down…calm down._

“Next question.”

“I could just keep you here until I think of a proper question.”

“I doubt it.” Dipper dismissed.

“Why?” Red filled his energy more and more as time passed, pushing away the orange and the yellow filling with black.

“Because.”  _Sixteen_.

“Why?!” Coherency was gone. Pure rage remained and his energy bubbled and fizzed like an overflowing soda.

“You’d waste them.”  _Seventeen_.

“How so?” So easy. For all his smug attitude, he was just a kid. Just a simple kid with emotions too powerful for him to contain.

“Like this.”  _Eighteen_.

“Would you stop doing that?!” William cried out, face darkening and fists clenching.

“What for?”  _Nineteen_.

“Because I said so!” Now his emotions ruled over him, flowing freely in his energy and shaping it into a spotty, bubbling mass that was almost impossible to discern from the sludge one finds in the bottom of a coffee pot.

“And? Your contract is for questions, not commands.” Dipper truly was Alcor then, the world-weary trickster demon who would do anything to weasel out of a deal.

“ _So_?!!!” Tears leaked from William’s eyes, dripping to his chin and onto the floor.

“Goodbye!” Dipper saluted as he tesseracted away, ice-cream still in hand. That was a stressful encounter… At least he wouldn’t have to worry about summons any more. At least, not until William calmed down. Poor energy made for poor summonings that could easily be ignored. Good for Dipper, not so much for the kid he had duped. Ah well…

* * *

 

The next time Dipper saw William, he was fighting another demon. It was a lower-level Malachor–the simple kind of demon with bat wings and cloven hooves and a scorpion tail–and it was not pleased to be against Alcor. In fact, it openly admitted that, were it not for the binding done on it, it would have conceded and given away all the information it had on its summoners immediately. Dipper knew this to be true because he recognized the Binding brand on its chest. An eye with an 'X’ through the middle of it.  _The Blind-Eyes._

_Shit._

Thank the higher powers that he had been summoned when he was. Even if the summons was shoddy at best.

His summoner cowered in the corner, yellow pouring off him in droves.  _Poor William…_

_“What are you doing?!”_

_“It’s trying to kill me!”_

_“What do you want?”_

_“A contract! Save me!”_

_“A sacrifice! I need a sacrifice!”_

_“Whatever you want! I don’t care! Just save me!”_

Dipper was going to have to take care of the price later. Now he had the Malachor to take care of.

“What is it your summoner wants with this kid?” Fire flickered in Dipper’s hands, blue and hot as Hell. He concentrated on the Malachor but the beast had not moved yet. It looked in pain however.

“They want the boy for the cycle.” It grunted, in pain from divulging this simple information alone. It was breaking it’s Binding by not doing what it was told and that was causing it to get hurt. It really did not want to help them, whatever they had planned. Alcor’s reputation alone was not enough to make any demon, let alone a Malachor–known for their by-the-books loyalty to deals–break a Binding.

“What cycle?” Rebirth? But one boy was not worth all this trouble, let alone pitting anyone against Alcor.

“The five-hundred year cycle. The constellation trades places with the shape and vice versa. Neither remembers, neither forgets. When they are brought together the cycle moves. Lock and key, star and shape, ball and chain, never changing. Ever changing. The demons are safe, sealed, lock and chain.” It gasped for air, blood bubbling from its lips. Dipper knew its time was up and he knew that this demon didn’t deserve to die. Demons never reentered the cycle. They were and then they weren’t–himself being an exception. He didn’t want to damn this one to that nonexistence.

He found its name in its energy, ancient and revered in olden times. He cried it out, intoning in ancient tongues the release of it’s Bindings. The pain inflicted on it was turned on him and he screamed but the Malachor tesseracted away, back to its realm of choice, grateful but unwilling to help.

_Pain, so much pain! Mabel! Stan! Pain! Pain!! Pain!!!_

Through the haze of pain and discomfort, Dipper saw William’s silhouette and reacted instinctively, diving headfirst into his body and pushing the spirit of the twelve-year-old out. Within the walls of flesh and meat, deep inside the pulsing shell of energy that fizzled and popped like no human’s should, he was safe from the backlash. He looked at William’s spirit and shook his head. “That’s why you always specify a sacrifice kid.”

William was strangely calm, almost as if he were used to being out and about like that. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Malachors are nasty when used right. Usually they’re the harbingers of larger things to come but that one…that on didn’t want to do what it was doing.” Dipper sighed and rubbed the back of his-–William’s–-head tiredly. “I’m borrowing your body until the backlash fades. It may take a while.”

“What about those who summon you?”

“I have an answering machine. If it really bothers them they can take it up with the complaint department,” Dipper pointed to the trashcan leaning against the scorched doorframe. William chuckled. “Are you gonna get into any trouble for this?”

“Nah,” William shrugged. “They’re used to it.”

“Pyro?” Dipper asked incredulously.

“I have 'problems’.” William air-quoted.

“Huh…” Something about William’s body just felt right. Like wearing one of Mabel’s old sweaters or taking his old human form from time-to-time. “Sorry about your…room…”

“Don’t worry about it…I mean, I’m not the one who’s gonna get my butt whooped for this anyway, so I don’t care.” William reclined in the air comfortably and floated above his bed, humming to himself.

There was a pregnant pause as Dipper tried to get used to the weight of gravity again. William rolled over on one side, propped his head up on one chubby ethereal fist and sighed. “Huh…never thought I would be in this mess, Pine Tree.”

Dipper froze, that weird mix of emotions stronger than ever, that feeling of knowing pushing at his every fibre of being. What was it? Why was he feeling this way?

“Pine Tree?”

“Yeah. I just thought it up! Pretty good nickname for you, huh!”

“Why?”

William shrugged, “'unno…just felt right.”

“Do you just randomly nickname people you meet?” Dipper picked up a book and placed it back on William’s nightstand.

“Sometimes…when it feels right.” William floated upright and tucked his knees in. Against the light, with his arms akimbo, he cast a striking silhouette. One that set off Dipper’s warning bells. Then it clicked.

“Does anyone ever call you Bill?”

“Yeah.”

_Shit. Oh…Dipper was in it now…_


	2. Chapter 2

Knowing the demon who brought about the end of your humanity was back in the Cycle was one thing but dealing with it was something else entirely. Even worse was the steadily creeping feeling that the Malachor’s mention of the paired two—"star and shape" it said—involved the recreated spirit of one Bill Cipher, currently going by William Clave, and himself. Dipper was having one  _hell_  of a month.

He felt the tug of a summons pull him out of a tense line of thought and debated whether or not to let his answering machine take this one. It wasn’t as easygoing as Cassie’s summons but it wasn’t as rough as the standard summons either. Somewhere in-between, in a space that was half mild discomfort and half ‘I left my stomach over the last roller coaster curve thankyouverymuch’. With a resigned sigh, Dipper adjusted his hat and answered the call.

“Who dares summon the omniscient Alcor?!!!” He thundered before taking in the dingy—and somewhat ramshackle-slash-burnt—appearance of the room he was in. He knew this room. Oh no… “ ** _William_** —!”

“I know, I know. You told me not to summon you again after last time,” William—Dipper had to fight every urge he had to not call him Bill—rolled his eyes and his hand in a flippant manner. “But, yanno…I got to thinking…you never  _did_  answer my questions properly. You  _cheated_  me.”

“You summoned a demon, kid. What did you expect, a hand-out?” Dipper grimaced. Seems William had Bill’s incessant thirst for knowledge, if not his moral compass.

“So—” William continued, ignoring Dipper, “I did some research, changed up my circle a bit, and gave you a summons. I want answers.” He brandished a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Everything But the Kitchen Sink.

“You know what a pint gets you.” Dipper warned, inspecting the circle for flaws in case he didn’t like the way the questioning was going.

“Answers.” He repeated.

Dipper took the ice cream and leaned back. “Begin.”

* * *

 

The second round of questioning, much like the first, led to more questions than actual answers. William was clever enough to get a few real answers out of Dipper—not that he would (or could) lie to him—but the kid still was easily riled up and easily misled. A few 'possibly’s and a few 'perhaps’s led to William wasting five of his questions pressing the matter. Now that all was said and done and Dipper was lazily kicking back in the Dreamscape while watching the adventure of one Cassie Lillian and her most recently adopted child Micheal—who was nothing like the archangel he was named after.

(Not that angels were all that great; I mean, they sat up in Heaven and dicked about, not giving two shits about any human who didn’t 'matter'—i.e. 99% of the population—and creepily stalking the 1% that did 'matter’. Assholes, the lot of them. Even worse were the Seraphim. Ugh…)

Dipper felt that 'roller-coaster discomfort’ pull on his centre again and begrudgingly allowed himself to be tugged through to the source. Again he was met with William Clave and a slightly smaller, better warded summoning circle that Dipper realised was a combination of Cassie’s 'Dippingsauce’ circle and an old summons wheel with the symbols adjusted to accommodate his power level and affinity. It was almost air-tight, save for one poorly translated sigil that could used as a handy 'get out of jail free’ card if things got spotty.

“So soon?” Dipper asked, crossing his legs and hovering gently above the centre of the circle.

“For you maybe,” William’s voice pitched and cracked as he spoke, “but I’m fifteen now so it’s been a few years.” Not much had changed about the boy’s appearance. He still had short dreadlocks and almost white-blonde hair and his skin was still as clear as ever—Dipper was mildly jealous of the fact, since he had terrible acne during the brief 'teenager’ period he had. His eyes were still mismatched, though the one that was champagne coloured was now an ice blue, and he still was a bit chubby, though the weight was centred around his middle and his thighs as opposed to the baby fat from before.

“I see that,” Dipper hummed. Then, with a wide gesture of his hand he asked, “Why have you summoned me? The same reason as last time?”

“A bit. I’ve been doing some research on demons and djinn and questions and I’m gonna get some answers out of you for real.” He clenched his fists angrily and sat down on his threadbare bed. Pulling out a sheet of paper from a drawer in his nightstand and a pint of Moose Tracks. He tossed the pint to Dipper and began questioning him.

“Alcor, is it true that you can read the energy of living things?”

_Harmless enough. No reason to be tricky with this one_. “Yes, I can.” He bit down on a peanut butter cup and sighed in contentment.

“Alcor, is it true that you can tell when and how someone will die by reading their energy.”

Dipper would have been worried about how specific these questions were if it weren’t for the fact that he had picked up that William was currently focusing on supernatural law in school. “Yes.” He scanned the room for some indication of what William was getting at. The energy was splattered everywhere, thicker and brighter than before. In contrast, William’s energy looked almost sickly.

“Alcor, if—”

“Y'know,” Dipper interjected, “you don’t  _have_  to precede every question with my name. I’m not a Legion. Single mind up here,” he tapped the brim of his top hat and smirked, spooning more dessert into his mouth.

“Fine,” William conceded, “If I asked you to, would you tell me when and how I was going to die?”

_Oh. That’s what he was getting at. Oh no._  “Yes.”

“When and how am I going to die?”

Now he had an option. Dipper could twist his answer to the point that it was almost indecipherable, or he could be truthful. Both were hard choices… “You die young. And…”

“And what?” He wasted a question but Dipper didn’t care. He still had to answer him truthfully.

“Your energy runs out.”

William blinked. He hadn’t been expecting such a frank answer from the demon that easily tricked him a few times before. “How does that cause my death?”

“Energy is…”  _How to put this? Not everyone was as gifted as demons were in sensing energy_. “Life force that is coloured with emotion. Pieces of your mind, so to speak.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You were born with too much energy. Your body couldn’t hold it so it vented the extra, except now it can’t stop. You’re expending more energy than you’re making and one day you will run out. That is when you will die.” His energy, weaker than before…so much weaker, fizzed and popped with reds and blacks and yellows and blues.

“H…how will that affect my death?”

Another moral dilemma; on one hand Dipper didn’t really care for Bill but on the other, this wasn’t exactly Bill… Dipper swallowed heavily and stood up, shiny shoes touching down on a circle drawn with washable marker on dingy off-white carpet. The summons ripped at his insides, compelling him to answer but he wanted to be as delicate as possible. “Your body will slowly shut down,” he admitted, not looking at William. “First you’ll just feel really ill, then your organs start to fail, you’ll have major health problems develop as your body just quits on you, and then…you go out slowly and painfully with no option outside of ending your suffering early.” Out of the corner of his eyes he could see ripples of black and blue and grey coming off of William. Despair…it tasted bittersweet on his tongue.

William clenched his fists and his teeth and looked visibly ill. It was all he could do, Dipper could tell, to remain standing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to howl. A life cut short-–so short…so short-–was a tragedy. (And this boy was not Bill Cipher, he had to remind himself). After some time, filled with silence and rippling waves of energy that would have been normal on a newborn, William wiped his arm across his eyes and sighed.

“Is there anything I can do to prevent this?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

Dipper resisted as much as he could; people who knew their fates usually resisted with everything they had and since the Trancendence happened, there were far more demon dealings and djinn wishes gone wrong that dealt with preventing or postponing death. He didn’t last long. He was seriously considering the escape clause now. “You would have to attain a form that would hold and properly contain your energy and would have the means to replenish it.” Every word was posion on his tongue.

William bubbled black and blacker and grey and purple. Malice and death and planning; not mischief like before, but plotting and planning and keen thoughts.  _Don’t die. Can’t die. Won’t die. I won’t I won’t I won’t!!!_

Dipper smudged a bit of the faulty sigil and eyed WIlliam. He didn’t like where this was going.

“What sort of form?”

In his time as a demon, Dipper had heard some very terrifying phrases but nothing struck him harder than the four words uttered by a teenage reincarnation of the demon that landed him in this mess in the first place. He had had enough. With the summons pulling at his gut, wrenching and sharp pain deep in his core, he eradicated the sigil and tesseracted to the Dreamscape, leaving behind a furious William. That was not something he wanted to get involved with.

* * *

 

The next time he was summoned by William he dreaded every moment of their inevitable encounter. With his omnescience Dipper could tell when William was going to call him again and what the boy’s situation was like. It took all of Dipper’s focus to remain watching this one boy.

The summons was strong, sharp and potent, but controlled. He arrived in a circle barely big enough for him to stand and tightly warded. He couldn’t find a single mistake to latch on to and there was a second layering of sigils underneath the first that he couldn’t quite read.

William looked haggard; his eye was sunken in and the other completely missing, his skin pulled taut against his bones, his whole body quivered and shook with the effort of standing up, and his flesh was ashy and sickly. “Alcor,” he sneered, “I’ve finally figured out what it is that I can do to stop this.”

There was so little energy left in him that Dipper couldn’t read him at all. He stoically stared William in the eyes— _when did he get that tall? When did he get that old?_ —and spoke in a low and metered voice, without all the echoes and demonic add-ons he usually had. “What is that, William?”

William gave a sly grin, full of yellowed teeth and bleeding gums, then reached for his shirt. “This.” With a calculated, yet stuttering movement, William yanked his shirt off, revealing a Binding circle engraved in his chest. It was familiar, though Dipper could not place where he had seen it or what it was called, with a set of rings—one inside another—cut into segments and filled in with an array of ten seemingly random objects. Dipper felt a kinship with that circle and yet was repulsed by it as well. A word was on the tip of his tongue for why he felt that way, but it evaded his every attempt for clarity.

“ _Et incarnatus est de circulo, te invoco. Opus manuum mearum in sanguinem, et ignem, et impium. Adiuro te per glaciem. Adiuro te per oculum. Adiuro te per pinu. Adiuro te per notatione. Adiuro te per. Adiuro te per bellator. Adiuro te per stellam. Adiuro te per cor. Adiuro te per specula. Adiuro te per quaestionem. Adiuro te per vas decem vestris et forma. Sic quod ita sit_.” William entoned, voice rising to a high shriek by the end of it. Dipper felt the pull again, this time a more wrenching and rending feeling, tearing him apart and pulling the pieces toward the center of the Binding circle. He tried to warn him of the consequences, that Binding a demon to ones-self was a quick way to lose one’s humanity but the words died quickly as his throat would no longer work enough to speak. His form liquefied and melted, pulling into the circle and disappearing into the ether. All went black.

Somewhere in the Dreamscape a young boy materialized, floating gently in the realm of sleep as if he belonged here. In front of him he saw a shining light that gave him a strange feeling…one he could almost name but not quite. It was on the tip of his tongue. Comfort mixed with hope and a warmth he couldn’t place. From the light came a voice, one he knew well. “C'mon Dippingsauce! We’re all waiting for you!” He smiled as he drifted forward into the light. He remembered the feeling now:  _home_. He was home.

* * *

 

From the shadows, a chubby demon with ashy black skin and golden eyes watched a pair of siblings running around, laughing and playing with each other. He sneered. That was the life he could have had. How dare he be happy? How dare he flaunt his happiness?! With a soft sigh and a maniacal grin, the demon melted into the shadows and floated towards the Dreamscape. He had plans for that kid. That boy would not be happy as long as he existed. The great Bill Cipher would make sure of that.


End file.
